


Shattered

by PrinceLiv



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anxiety, Creepy Hannibal, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mental Health Issues, Possessive Hannibal, Prompt Art, Romance, Short One Shot, Someone Help Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 19:23:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8590609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceLiv/pseuds/PrinceLiv
Summary: Hannibal is as good at playing with grammar as with Will's mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There was a prompt in my writing class to use certain words (well, let's play Which Ones) in a one shot. Totally nailed it, so decided to translate (bc I'm from Poland, and no one reads Polish ff). Anyway, enjoy!

And they said that human flesh tasted like a chicken. _Ch_ _ick_ _-_ _e_ _n_ , he repeated in thoughts, near to let out a chuckle. How ridiculous this silly word sounded, so unlike _him_ , his sophistication. It had nothing in common with _his_ taste. They say that human flesh tastes like a chicken ---- and it was the reason of that contrariety, was it not?

„Will you marry me?” The lips brushing against his earlobe; the hoarse, spoiling him with its unique accent voice. „Will, you marry me.”

Yes, it was like it; it was the Hannibal Will knew. And he knew that Hannibal did not expect an answer, because the answer he had given himself. Will limited his reaction to a quiet murmur, pecked on Hannibal's jaw. One kiss, then another, parted by long seconds; Hannibal had been looking forward to this for so long. Waiting for those few more moments that gave Will an illusory feeling of being, that were so significant to him, yet still seemed to treat each moment like a salvation. As if he could ever be close to any.

This time Will truly laughed. Shook his head as Hannibal sent him a questioning look. A cold hand reached up, long fingers slowly traced its way along the smile's line. Gently, Hannibal parted the wet lips. The kiss cleansed Will's mind of disturbing thoughts. Soon, they were back, though – they were all back.

So much he did not want to go insane. Even more, though, he did not want to be reached by the realization that an illness could not be cured by its cause. He would have pulled off a snow white tablecloth, so that the service would smash up into pieces. Having flown into frenzy, he would have grabbed the remains of expensive plates, bowls, glasses. He would not have cared whether they hurt his fingers, too firmly clenched pinching into his palm, just thrown them into that beautiful man. The one that was his beginning and his end, the only companion of the madness of his.

Not at face – he would have never aimed at face. Because once their gazes would have met each other, the next sliver he might have target at himself as well.

Sinking into touch of those cold hands, Will could forget of absurd ideas. After all, Hannibal was taking care of him. Hannibal would have never let him get hurt.


End file.
